


I can't seem to forget you.

by daienkaixoxentei



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Bittersweet, Dementia, Hurt/Comfort, Like, M/M, PTSD: mention, Romance, like a lot of hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daienkaixoxentei/pseuds/daienkaixoxentei
Summary: A few years after he retires from skating, a tragic incident occurs concerning a certain Katsuki Yuuri, and Victor Nikiforov is devastated. Ten years after they first met, he is still struggling to come to terms with the accident, and wonders what he should do to cope with it. He wonders, has the time come for him to say goodbye?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so I'm going to say off the bat that this will be really angsty. It has been swimming around in my mind for a long time, but I've finally found enough time to piece together the words and form a fic, so here you go! ^_^ I hope you enjoy, and please do give me feedback! Lots of love!   
> Disclaimer: I do not own Yuri!! on Ice nor its characters, just the story and the extras. Inspo. credits to Nicholas Spark, and maybe a bit to Remember: War of the Son.

Victor Nikiforov sits alone at the table, a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. It is rather early in the morning, so the café is empty save for him and a lonely businessman sitting a few tables away. Despite the early hour, he usually maintains a cheerful pretense, and often spends his time chatting up the barista, a delightful old lady who he is quite familiar with, and has even come to consider as a close friend.

But not today.

He frowns thoughtfully at the piece of paper lying atop the table in front of him, wondering if he was really going to go through with this. A pen lay unattended adjacent the blank sheet, and Victor feels as if both stationeries are cocking a brow at him in askance, silently challenging him to go about his duty. Despite the warm mug in his hands, his fingers seem to be trembling as he loses himself in his despondent muse.

But he has promised himself that he will not relent, because today is going to be different.

Today is the day he will finally go through with this.

Swallowing down the layer of disgust coating his throat, and suppressing all the anguish swarming like a horde of angry bees in his consciousness, he sets the mug down. Taking a deep breath, he blinks back the tears that rise to fill his azure eyes, and tentatively picks up the pen with his shaking fingers.

Today is the day.

* * *

* * *

 

**Dear Yuri,**

**This will make no sense to you, so I do not understand why I am writing any of it in the first place.**

 

* * *

“Mr. Katsuki! Look who’s here to see you, today!”

As usual, Victor enters the oh-so-familiar hospital room with a touch of trepidation, and a slight amount of hope. He plasters on his well-practiced smile, and waves good naturedly at the patient sitting by the window.

“Yuri, hi!”

Victor thinks the dark-haired man looks lovely even in his dull habit of staring out onto the overlooking garden and fiddling with the curtains aimlessly. He cannot help but think about the offending article of paper folded meticulously in his jacket pocket almost as soon as Yuri comes into his view, but he swallows the thought down immediately.

This is his last day with him, after all. It wouldn’t do to waste it away brooding. He has planned to spend the day filling his head with memories of a happy, content Yuri, and is determined to see his plan through to the end.

“He’s a really nice man, and he’s handsome, too. You like spending time with him, don’t you, Yuri?”

It takes him a great deal of effort not to burst into tears immediately when Yuri lifts his blank, bespectacled eyes to his, and gives a polite smile. Though it is a lovely sight to behold, there is nothing Victor feels as he comprehends the sight, other than a gut-wrenching, tear-jerking agony.

Yuri extends his arm towards him and widens his lovely smile – the courteous smile you greet a stranger with.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” He mumbles sheepishly, and scratches his head in mild embarrassment. “I… I’m afraid I have trouble remembering things, and I don’t know if we’ve met before. May I ask you your name?”

Victor swallows down the regular, imminent, heightening sensation of wanting to cry, and takes his lover’s fingers in his own trembling digits, shaking them twice. He blinks a couple of times, desperate to maintain his happy façade so as to preserve Yuri’s unknowing innocence. His voice is raspy when he responds, but he doubts Yuri notices (or cares).

“H-Hi, no, dear, don’t worry about it.” He forces himself to smile wider. “My name is Victor Nikiforov. Nice to meet you, too.”

* * *

**Maybe it is because my actions and mentality are still grounded by the rootless faith that this monologue will unravel to conclude in a happy ending for the both of us.**

**Or perhaps it is because I want closure.**

* * *

“How is he, today?” Victor chokes out a hurried whisper as soon as he exits the room with Yuri’s doctor – a kindly, tired-looking man in his late thirties – leaving Yuri inside the room, lost in conversation with his gracious nurse and almost unaware that the other man has left the room at all. He sounds desperate, pitiful even, and he knows that, but he doesn’t care.

The doctor smiles at him sadly, a kind of sympathetic understanding in his eyes that Victor astutely picks up at once. The man clears his throat, and smiles more sincerely.

“He’s doing well. He even agreed to go out for a run with the nurse this morning, which shows a lot of progress in terms of traumatic recovery, and he hasn’t had a panic attack even once.”

Victor feels a pang of jealousy, because _he_ wants to be there for all these special things in Yuri’s life, not these unfamiliar doctors. He feels slightly guilty that he missed it, but shakes off the guilt and continues in a hesitant, noncommittal tone.

“And… any signs of… you know…?”

The doctor sighs and shakes his head demurely. He hates reiterating the words almost as much as Victor dislikes hearing them, but neither has a choice in the matter. He pats Victor’s shoulder good-naturedly.

“No, Mr. Nikiforov, and you _know_ the answer won’t change.”

He has heard the words a million times already, but it never fails to fill his eyes with tears. Every day, he wakes up hoping, and every day, the answer continues to be the same thing.

“I… I do know, I just…” he blinks the tears away, wipes the few that squeezed through with the back of his jacket sleeve, and sniffles, “I can’t help it. I can’t help but hope.”

The doctor remains silent for a moment. “I am truly sorry, Mr. Nikiforov.”

And the man _is_ sorry, truly, even though it is not his fault. It is no one’s fault except his own, and that is what makes the entire thing so heartbreakingly unfair. He squeezes Victor’s shoulder comfortingly once, and then walks away from the door, leaving him there to ponder and battle with the thousands of demons swirling in his heart. After a long time staring at the doorknob, and wondering if he should reenter the room or not, his hand gives an awkward, indecisive twitch, and Victor stomps away from the door with tears streaming from his eyes once more.

* * *

**Ah… I’m starting to ramble, aren’t I? I sound a bit like you, you know? Your anxious rants might seem ludicrously crazy to the outsider, but I’ve long since come to learn that your words are astonishingly soothing to my soul. Yuri, you’ve always known precisely how to straighten out my frazzled thoughts. People – even you, Yuri – might have assumed that _I_ was the one who consoled _you_ , but more often than not, it was the other way around.**

**Oh, sorry, Yuri! I’m going off track again, sorry, I keep getting distracted. I’m not very good at this. Your rants usually have meaning, whereas mine are more self-centered and insincere than anything else. But I’m learning to correct that, okay?**

**You must be so bewildered by now. I’ll explain, and then it might make a lick of sense.**

**I’m getting to it, I promise.**

**I’m going to tell you a story—a love story. The kind that you like the most. Just like those really cheesy movies we’ve watched together, that has a lot of fluff but ends up making ~~you~~ – _us_ – cry in the end. **

**~~Except that it is a lot sadder, and makes me cry even now. And it’s about you and me, but that doesn’t matter, because I’m not anybody important, okay? Oh god, I’m not supposed to say things like that. I can’t tell you this, I don’t want to hurt you at all! I shouldn’t be saying any of this… Oh god, I’ll just strike it all out and scribble over it so that you can’t read it.~~ **

**~~I love you, Yuri, god damn it, I still love you.~~ **

**~~Please come back to me.~~ **

**~~Please.~~ **

* * *

“Have you decided to do it?”

He is sitting alone on a bench in the hospital park, with his head cradled in his hands and eyes and heart empty and breathless of tears when the younger man approaches him, coming to a halt right in front of him.

“I… I can’t do it. I can’t, Yurio.” And he dissolves into tears once more, his voice slipping into a stubborn, hoarse whine. He is too ashamed to lift his head and look at his old successor, afraid to come to terms with the frustrated sympathy in his eyes. He truthfully couldn’t do it. Yuri is too perfect, and too lovely, and Victor has known from the beginning that he has never stood a chance against his charm.

For a long time, Yuri Plisetsky – now a fully grown man, 25 years of age and wise well beyond his years – remains quiet, staring down sadly at the shell of what used to be a confident, happy man. He misses Yuri, too, but he knows whatever sadness he feels cannot even compare to the anguish the man in front of him must be feeling. He smooths down the long platinum blonde hair messily gathered in a high ponytail atop his head, tucks his hands into the pockets of his leather biking jacket, and sits down next to his old mentor, wondering how God could be so cruel as to give a man such a horrible fate.

“All this is just hurting you, Victor.” He says, uncharacteristically quiet, albeit still accentuated with his usual rough undertones. “It’s not doing him any favors, either, and you _know_ it.”

Victor _does_ know it. He knows it very well, but every time he tries to do it, he succumbs to the wide-eyed, wholehearted innocence in Yuri’s dark eyes, and feels himself _melt._ Every time he tells himself that this is the last time he is going to see those eyes, he feels something inside him break.

They remain without speaking for a long time, the silence punctuated only by Victor’s occasional sniffles. Then, Yuri speaks up again gruffly.

“Did you at least think about it, then?”

He _doesn’t want to think about it,_ god damn it. “I… I did.” He manages to rasp out. “I wrote a letter for him.”

Another silence passes between them. At long last, Yuri asks softly, worry in his eyes, because despite everything he says, he cares about the two of them more than he wants to admit.

“And you’re going to give it to him?”

Victor swallows down a sob, blinks away a tear. He lifts his head from his hands and looks despondently at the grass by his feet, subconsciously choking down the last of his fears, doubts and sadness.

“I will.” He promises, more to himself than to Yuri. “Tonight.”

* * *

**Okay, so, the story is actually a letter from a man named Victor, to ~~Katsuki Yuri, the beautiful, amazing, wonderful person he fell in love with~~ another character, the one he fell in love with. I won’t tell you his name, though! ~~Because I can’t risk hurting you.~~ You might know the person, so I’m going to have you guess who it is before you reach the end, okay, Yuri? Like… like a game! I know you can do it. **

**I believe in you.**

**You can do anything you put your mind to.**

**~~I don’t want to hurt you.~~ **

**~~I don’t want to hurt you, but there are so many things I have to tell you. I can’t leave these things unsaid, because they will tear my mentality apart from the inside, and leave me hollow if I let them be. I need to express it somehow, and I don’t want to hurt you, so this is the only thing I can think to do.~~ **

**Okay, here it goes:**

**_My name is Victor Nikiforov. In 2016, I fell deeply and irrevocably in love. Certainly, it was not the first time I did so, but it was definitely the first time I felt something so overwhelmingly_ ** **different. _Indeed, you were not the first person I fell in love with, but you were most certainly, undeniably, the last._**

**_The first time I saw you, it was a thousand miles away, through the screen of a mobile phone. The second time I saw you, I was butt naked and steaming from the heat of a hot spring, and you were blushing and staring at me, mouth agape in shock. Haha, the recollection still makes me smile! Your reaction was really cute, you know?_ **

**_I suppose the phrase ‘falling in love’ is somewhat inaccurate. I do not distinctly remember when I ‘fell in love’ with you. I figure it was more of a scenario where… where I was gradually sliding into love’s grasp, swimming my way through the first tender brushes of love with your hand in mine, all the way to the deep end – and then suddenly the startling realization hit me that I was far too enamored by you to ever return to the surface again._ **

**_For a long time, I was the happiest person in the world. I really was. I’m not just saying this to appease you, it’s the embarrassing, stone-cold truth. So long as I had you by my side, I was the happiest person in the world, and I convinced myself that I would defy the almighty himself and do a quadruple Salchow_ ** **backwards _into the flames of hell before I let anybody take you away from me._**

**_And the best part?_ **

**_The best part was that, for a long time, you felt the exact same way._ **

**_They say that true love changes you permanently, and though I am a cynic I know that that statement speaks more truth than society perceives it to. The feelings that bloomed within my chest when our fingers brushed and our eyes met, the butterflies that littered my abdomen when you pressed your lips against my cheek, the symphonic rhapsody of ecstasy that played through my consciousness when you spoke, these were all symptoms of a soul helplessly in love, and for a long time, I was so glad._ **

**_I was so unboundedly happy about having you as someone to love, because for a long, long time, I had no qualms about you feeling the same way. We were two specks of stardust within a constant explosion of supernovae, but the fireworks were within my heart, because I was able to find the courage I needed to smile within the soft warmth of your brown eyes even when the entire world was crashing to pieces at our feet._ **

**_In 2016, I found love._ **

**_And then reality bared its ugly head at me, and ensnared you within its ruthless teeth, dragging your entwined soul away from mine. I tried to hold onto you, I tried to physically force you to stay, but it was not your body that Fate stole from me._ **

**_In 2026, I lost it._ **

**_~~And it was my fault. I never should have taken you skating that day, I should have known you would have lost some of your touch after so long of not being on the ice. I should have known your skates would be rusty. I should have never let go of your hand. I should have seen you trip. I should have caught you before your head hit the ice. It should have been me who fell instead of you, because you did not deserve this at all. It should have been me who contracted Alzheimer’s. It should have been me instead of you, it should have been me. It should not have been you.~~ _ **

**_~~I should have saved you.~~ _ **

**_No, it was not your body that He took, and I unfortunately do not have the power to defy the Metaphysical. They say Fate is cruel but just, and lately I have become to refuse that as true, because He had the gall to afflict you in such a way that your body would be within my fingertips whereas your mind would be wandering somewhere else a billion miles away. He quenched the fire within your very heart, left you lost and confused, and I know that for as long as I live, I will never be able to forgive Him for that._ **

**_I will never be able to forgive Him for that, because such cruelness can never be just._ **

**_Firstly, because He hurt_ ** **you.**

**_~~Nobody gets to hurt you. Not me, no, especially not me. I’m so sorry if my words are hurting you. I’m so sorry. I want you to remember, but I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve already hurt you enough. I’ve hurt you enough.~~ _ **

**_~~I’m so sorry.~~ _ **

**_Secondly, because despite all my attempts, I’m still terribly selfish, and despite all my efforts to swallow my anguish and remain by your side I find that I am still human after all and prone to weakness and disgrace. I think… I think the time has come…_ **

**_…for me to let go._ **

**_For me to say goodbye... to you, for good. Forever._ **

**_To never see you again._ **

**_~~You won’t remember me, anyway.~~ _ ** **_It is for the best, isn’t it?_ **

**_~~If it’s for the best, why am I crying? Why are the tears falling down my face without control, without any end in sight? Why am I sobbing like a lost child? Why are my insides screaming in protest? Why? Why, why, why? Why did you do this to me, Yuri?~~ _ **

**_~~Why did I have to lose you?~~ _ **

**_~~Oh god, why?~~ _ **

**_~~Why is it hurting me so much, if it’s for the best?~~ _ **

**_Goodbye, my love—No… No…_ **

**_What I’m doing is already deplorable enough. To leave you in the dark like this, that is so much worse._ **

**_You deserve some essence of the truth. You deserve to know our story. Even if it hurts, even if it pains you, you deserve to know that you were a person who fell in love, and was loved back. Irrevocably and undeniably. You were a person who was happy. You were a person who was cared for, appreciated._ **

**_This is the story of you and me, Yuri._ **

**_I didn’t tell you at the beginning, because I didn’t want to hurt you. But now I understand… that you deserve to know._ **

**_More than anything, you deserve at least this bit of happiness._ **

**_Thank you for loving me as I have loved you._ **

**_Goodbye, Yuri._ **

* * *

Victor doesn’t realize how long he sits on the bench, in his numb state. He vaguely recollects a flurry of people coming to greet him, all familiar figures of one sort or the other, and he is conscious of the fact that he has spoken to them in some manner, has even greeted them with a smile or somewhat. When he comes to be from his state of reverie, the sky is dark, and the hospital is a lot quieter than usual.

He doesn’t know what force grips him just then, but he suddenly feels the urge to get up, and to be next to Yuri. He finds himself standing up, and without any prior indication, starting to walk towards the hospital even though he knows for certain that visitors would not be allowed at this hour. The air outside is cold, but he realizes this only when he steps into the hospital and notices the contrast in temperature. He walks past the surprised receptionist before she could react, right into the elevator, and presses the button.

He doesn’t recall stepping out, but the next thing he knows he is standing in front of the door to Yuri’s room. His hands are on the doorknob, and he is _almost_ there, so tantalizingly close, but all of a sudden another hand falls onto his, restraining his fingers.

Victor blinks, startling himself from his daze, and realizes that Yuri’s nurse is holding him back. Despite the fact that he is breaking a thousand rules, she does not look angry with him at all, and all he can read from her face is sadness.

“Mr. Nikiforov, please, you’re not allowed to do this at this hour.”

Victor doesn’t have an adequate retort, and only finds himself whispering. “Please, please, I just need to see him once.”

“Sir, I can’t… he’s sleeping…”

His cheeks are surprisingly dry of tears. Such is his resolution to see Yuri. He feels nothing but determination.

“I won’t disturb him,” he whispers, quieter this time so as to not startle the sleeping Yuri, “I promise I won’t. I just… I just want to see his face.”

The nurse stays quiet for a long time, and then miraculously, amazingly, her fingers release his, and she retracts her hand tentatively. She doesn’t meet his eyes as she says this, but is wearing a sad smile as she steps away from the door.

“Maybe… maybe I’ll go to the bathroom or something, just for five minutes.”

Victor wants to kiss her in his gratefulness, but he maintains his composure. He smiles and thanks her in a vociferous whisper, hoping his voice conveys the emotion and thankfulness he is feeling at her act of kindness. He waits until the nurse walks away from the door, and gently turns the doorknob, slipping inside.

The room is dark save for the fire flickering in the fireplace. Victor smiles upon hearing the familiar sound. Yuri always liked the sound of wood crackling with fire, and he is glad to see that though the man in the bed is now a stranger to him, he is still the same, wonderful, funny, adorable person he used to be.

He tucks his hand inside his pocket, feeling about for the letter and making sure it is still there. He steps towards Yuri’s bed quietly, and gently lowers himself down onto his knees, so that he is eye-level with Yuri. His features are gentle in repose, and he is breathing in out and softly, deep in sleep.

Yuri is perfect, after all, and Victor has never stood a chance.

He closes his eyes, listening to the comforting, familiar sound of his lover’s breathing. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he whispers.

“I love you, Yuri.” His voice is almost a murmur, barely audible over the sound of the crackling fire. “I love you, I love you more than anything else, and I hope that somewhere in your heart, you are aware of this. Maybe not as something definite, but as something abstract. As something you can feel rather than understand.

“Thank you for everything, Yuri.” He finishes, still keeping his eyes closed, basking in the soft happiness and contentment that has filled the room during the course of his speech. He feels the tears coming, because this is the end. This is the end of their relationship, and once he leaves the room, he knows he is never going to come back.

(But is he really going to go through with this?)

(Is he really going to abandon Yuri?)

And then, all of a sudden, a soft voice startles him from his muse.

“… Victor?”

A billion thoughts run through his head when he hears the utterance of his name in _that_ tone, in _that_ voice, the first and foremost being that this must be a dream. This must be a dream. Because it can’t be true.

But then his eyes register Yuri’s surprised expression, his eyes blinking open sleepily and squinting up at him, trying to see him clearly without his spectacles. He feels Yuri’s fingertips on the arm he has placed on the side of the bed next to his resting form, his digits clenching into his flesh tightly, as if afraid that he might disappear from his side any minute, and he realizes, his heart racing, that _he is not a stranger to Yuri anymore._

 _“_ Y… Yuri?” He voices tentatively, terrified that he might lose the miraculous moment if he didn’t respond at once.

“Victor, I’m so sorry,” Yuri says, tearing up, his lips trembling like the earth before an earthquake, “I’m so sorry! How long do we have? How long do we have before I forget again…? Before I forget you…?”

Yuri doesn’t say what he is sorry for, but Victor understands what he is implying, what he is saying. He hushes Yuri at once, stroking his hair affectionately.

“No, no, Yuri, don’t worry about that… don’t worry about that, right now. I’m here. _We’re_ here now, together.”

He understands why Yuri is distressed, and he doesn’t want him to feel that way, not at all. He wants to spend the brief time they have _happily._ He reaches out and grabs Yuri’s face within his trembling fingers. Their tearful eyes meet, and Victor sees that despite his tears, Yuri is smiling, and his heart _glows._ His heart feels fuller and happier than it has for _years_ , ever since that fateful day when Yuri’s condition began to deteriorate.

“No, Yuri, I’m sorry.” He says fervently, because he is. He is sorry for everything that has happened, he is sorry because he _knows_ in his heart that miraculous moment will not last, he is sorry for all that has happened, and he is sorry for ever, ever daring to even _dream_ of leaving his side.

No. No, Victor will _never_ do that to him. Never.

“Victor…” Yuri murmurs shakily, his voice growing distant, and he doesn’t hesitate a moment longer. He presses his lips to Yuri’s in an ardent, fervent kiss; an emotional embrace of several _years’_ worth of affection and sincerity. He drinks in the moment deeply, feeling his body and soul warm themselves from the inside out, and as he finally, finally pulls away, he smiles at Katsuki Yuri and realizes that he hasn’t felt such genuine happiness in a long, long time.

“I love you, Yuri.”

Yuri smiles back at him drowsily, and Victor’s fingers wipe away the last of his tears from his cheek, ridding all evidence of their brief but poignant moment from the world. Victor leans down to press a kiss goodnight onto Yuri’s forehead as the latter closes his eyes, wearing an expression so peaceful that anyone would have felt content just looking at him.

“And I love you, Victor.”  

Victor will _never_ leave him.

Of that, he is certain.

He spends the rest of his time smiling down at Yuri fondly, until at last the nurse cracks the door open and smiles at him good-naturedly, telling him that it is time for him to leave. Victor stands up, feeling dazed – but in a good way – and smiles happily at the bewildered nurse before beginning to exit the room. On his way out, he stops by the fireplace, and drops a piece of paper into the flames. As the words curl up into a crisp and floats as ashes into the air, the last lines of his letter burn as brightly as the flames:

**_But… but hey, just know this, okay, Yuri? Just know this:_ **

**_No matter what happens, no matter how the heavens interfere, no matter what comes between us… I will always love you._ **

**_I will always, always love you, Katsuki Yuri._ **

**_Always._ **

**_Of that, I am certain._ **

* * *

Victor will never leave him, no matter what.

Of that, Katsuki Yuri is certain.

* * *

 

**_Love, Victor._ **

**Author's Note:**

> So this doesn't REALLY have a happy ending. It shouldn't, because it is already unrealistic enough that they even got five minutes together. But it's a fic, so I'm allowing it to be bittersweet. Alzheimer's is a very severe disease, and I mean no disrespect. In fact, if you all have time and money, please do take a moment to donate to the cause if you can, because there are so many people out there who suffer from this disease without any reprieve. Please keep them and their loved ones in your heart, especially if you felt that this fic has touched you. Thank you so much for reading, and please do continue to support me.


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